iPickles
by seddie4thewin
Summary: This very short story is my take on the episode where Sam and Freddie have a bet and the loser has to drink pickle juice. Of course it's Seddie-fied for your pleasure.


**I know this isn't canon, but hopefully it's entertaining anyway.**

"You are such a dweeb!" Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah? Well, you're a - you're a - you're a - nyeah!" Freddie couldn't think of a come back in time and simply resorted to a weird noise to describe the girl he had a hopeless crush on since they shared their first kiss several years before.

"What are they fighting about now?" Spencer whispered to his sister as the other two teens continued to bicker over in the living room.

Carly simply shrugged and continued to mix her cupcake batter at the kitchen island. "What don't they fight about? Ever since they dated and broke up, all they do is fight! It's getting old."

"All they did was fight when they were dating." Spencer added. "Well, that and suck face to make up."

"Right. Too much of each in my opinion. Alright you two! Don't make me get the squirt bottle!" The brunette teen finally shouted when they got louder and started throwing things at each other.

"She started it." Freddie pointed to the blonde.

Sam deftly grabbed his finger and bent it backwards, relishing in touching his hand in front of others. "Didn't your crazy mother ever tell you it's not polite to point."

"Ow, ow, ow!" He winced in pain and dropped to his knees, possibly being more dramatic than hurt. Sam smirked at the thought of besting him yet again and dominating him, standing over his kneeling form. Heaven knows, she was always trying to be the dominate one.

A short while later, the two were on their way back from the smoothie shop, still arguing about anything and everything. If Freddie said the grass was green and the sky blue, Sam would challenge him on it. If she told him water was wet, he would protest the very idea.

Spencer was out of the apartment negotiating the deal on the Proton Cruiser. Carly had a headache from listening to her friends' constant verbal barrage and left her freshly iced cupcakes on the counter while she laid down in the quiet sanctity of her room to listen to music.

The two squabbling friends entered the apartment and looked around for one of the Shay siblings. Of course, Sam spotted the cupcakes and even though she knew Carly would be upset at the thought of losing a couple, decided to have herself a little snack and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Freddie had to get on her case, knowing what she was going to do, almost before she did it. "Sam! Don't eat Carly's cupcakes. You know she'll be wazzed off if she has to make another batch for the bake sale."

"Stuff a sock in it, nub. She wont' miss just one. Or four." Sam cracked as she took a big bite of the miniature pastry. "Mmmmm, chocolate!"

"Sam!" He hissed, now standing beside her, by the counter, with his hands on his hips. "I can't believe you'd do that to Carly. You are the worst friend ever!"

"Hey, I was hungry. And I wouldn't be a bad friend unless I did this." She picked up a cupcake and threw it at the apartment's back door.

Freddie gasped at her actions.

Sam, now immediately guilt stricken, took up the offense once again. "Now look at what you made me do, dipwad. You made me waste a perfectly good cupcake."

"Hey. It stuck." He said in amazement, suddenly forgetting their arguments and pointing to the cupcake, now clinging to the frosted glass door pane, frosting first.

"Cool." She responded, in awe herself. "Wonder how long it'll hang there."

"I want to try." Freddie picked up one with yellow frosting and tossed it at the door to try to see if he could make it stick. "I did it! It stuck! Yes!"

"Oooh, you'll end up being the starting pitcher for the Mariners some day." Sam cracked.

The two desserts clung to the door for a minute or so and suddenly fell at almost the same time.

"Ha! Yours sucked. It didn't stick near as long as mine." Sam bragged.

"Let's try again." He suggested, picking up a chocolate frosted cupcake.

"I'll still beat you." She cracked and picked up one herself.

"Wanna bet?" He challenged.

"You're on." Sam smiled with that devilish glint in her eye.

"What are the stakes, Puckett?"

"Loser has to, um, loser has to, uh, drink this pickle juice." Sam picked up a glass jar off the counter, half full of pickle juice that Spencer had left sit out.

"Eww, I don't wanna drink pickle juice." Freddie turned up his nose. "Gross!"

"Well then, you'd better throw that cupcake hard and hope it's dang sticky." Sam suggested.

"That's not something you hear every day." He replied. "Let's go!"

"Okay, ready?" She got into position.

"In five, four, three, two, cupcakes." He counted down and the two threw their cakes at the door simultaneously.

"What are you two doing?" Carly screeched from the bottom of the stairs. "Look at this mess!"

"Cupcake slam." Sam replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "C'mon baby, you got this." She shouted at her cupcake. "Mama needs a new pair of shoes."

"Shoes?" Carly asked. "And what about my cupcakes? Jeez, they're half gone and they're all over the floor. And the back door. You two are impossible."

"Oh, hush." Sam snipped. "Freddie will bake more and the shoe thing is just an expression."

"Come on, come on!" Freddie chanted, not paying attention to what she said he would do, or the girls in general. "You can do this, you beautiful chocolate frosted little thing, you."

"Stick, you stupid cupcake or I'll eat you." Sam threatened.

"Ewww! After it falls on the floor?" Carly sneered.

"Hey, it's still a cupcake." Sam shrugged. "I don't waste food."

Suddenly Freddie groaned as his cupcake fell to the floor. "Awh crabs!"

"Holy chiz!" Sam Shouted. "I won! I won! I won!"

"What did you win?" Her brunette friend questioned with a snark. "Was it more cupcakes for me to take to the bake sale? Because you've wasted half of these."

"Better! Fredward gets to drink this." Sam held up the jar in his face. "Hope you're thirsty, Fredwart."

"Yeach!" He wrinkled up his nose again. "I hate pickles."

"Come on, nub. A bet's a bet." Sam chided. "Unless you're a little wussy mama's boy."

He opened the jar and took a big gulp of the garlic-y, dilly, brine, choked it down and coughed and sputtered. "Gah. Is that enough?" In reality, he had only drank about a quarter of it.

"Alright, alright." Sam took the jar from his hands and put it back on the counter. "Don't drown yourself, dorkwad."

"So what about my cupcakes?" Carly questioned. "The bake sale starts in three hours. You two ruined half my cupcakes."

"Freddie will help you make more." Sam shrugged.

"Me?" He questioned, getting a drink of water to was out his mouth. "This was your idea."

"Yeah, you. Now be a good little nub and run down to the corner store and get Carls another box of cake mix and a couple of tubs of frosting." Sam shoved him toward the door.

"Just one of each." Carly yelled toward them. "I'll be lucky if I have time to make one batch."

"For her. And two tubs of double chocolate frosting for me." Sam smirked. "I'll look for a spoon while you're gone."

As soon as Freddie was through the door, Sam ran back to the kitchen and chugged the remainder of the jar of pickle juice.

"Wait, why are you drinking that? You won." Carly questioned.

"Eh, I like pickle juice. Freddie doesn't know that, though." Sam replied with a bit of a belch.

"But I thought . . . , he, um . . . , oh, never mind." Carly huffed. "I'll warm up the oven and get the mixing bowl back out."

"Mama plays to win." Sam shrugged, went over and flopped down on the couch, eating another cupcake.

"Quit eating my cupcakes!." Carly whined.

An hour later, Sam and Freddie were preparing to leave and Carly had just pulled her newest batch of cupcakes from the oven.

"I guess I need to sit here and stare at these while they cool to keep you two from wrecking them."

"Nah, we're out of here. See ya tomorrow, Carls." Sam shouted, heading for the door.

"Bye, guys." Carly replied.

"See you at school." Freddie said as he grabbed the door knob. Sam, of course, shoved him aside and pushed through the door first.

"Must you be such a boor?" Freddie snipped at Sam.

The door of apartment 8-C was no sooner shut when Freddie grabbed Sam's hand. "Walk you home, Princess Puckett?"

"Why not." She replied and laced her fingers into his. "You realize we can't keep up this charade forever, right?"

He simply shrugged and kissed her cheek. "But it's so much fun."

As soon as they boarded the elevator, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. "You realize your mom has cameras hidden in the hallway, right?"

"You mean the ones I have playing on a continuous loop of nothing but footage of who walked down the hall five months ago?"

"I love you when you're devious." She smirked and kissed him again.

They walked in peaceful silence to Sam's house. A welcome change from their previous chatter.

As they approached the front porch, Freddie left her go. "See you in the morning, Sammy."

"Good night, Freducchini." She smiled and stretched up to put her arms around his neck.

A few kisses later, the porch light came on. "Crabs. My mom's home." Sam backed away from him. "See ya, nub."

Freddie stretched down for one more kiss before simply saying "Good night" again and turning away. Just as she opened the door, he turned back to her. "Sam, why do you taste like pickle juice?"

"Maybe you should learn to like pickles!." She replied with a shrug.

 **Yes, it's another secret Seddie.**


End file.
